


Dressing Down the Duke

by Miragefiction



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Also I had to use this totally Romance Novel title before it left my brain, Alternate Timelines, And also didn't want to wait until the war ended to S-support, Canon Rewrite, Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, I wanted more from the reunion scene, Marriage Proposal, Not sure where this fits, Oral Sex, Post-Time Skip, Relationship Problems, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Very Light Femdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 17:09:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miragefiction/pseuds/Miragefiction
Summary: Byleth wakes up five years after the attack on Garreg Mach. She reunites with her Golden Deer and sparks begin to fly between her and the new Duke Riegan. They have to learn to trust each other again, perhaps fall in love, but assassination attempts and ambition keep getting in the way. It turns out Claude may have a few lessons yet to learn.This conveniently ignores and rewrites a lot of things post-timeskip in favor of getting to that sweet, sweet S-Support much earlier.





	1. Chapter 1

Her entire body ached, muscles stiff and sore, her vision overbright, but she was awake. The farmer she had startled said it had been five years, years, since the attack on Garreg Mach. How could that be? If that was true, then...

She had left them. 

Rhea, Claude, all of them, fighting off those demons alone...

It’s can’t really have been years...! 

Run, you idiot! 

Sothis’s strident scolding still echoing in her mind, Byleth ran.

When the shadow of the monastery finally came into view over the hill she tripped and stumbled to her knees. 

The village around the monastery was in shambles, broken and abandoned, the cathedral itself a jagged silhouette against the darkening sky. 

“Oh no...! Oh no, oh no no...!”

She got up and kept running, ignoring her bloody knees. She scrambled up the back entrance stairs, picking her way over broken masonry, every part of her body screaming in protest, lungs burning. 

When she turned the corner into the main cathedral she skidded to a stop, nearly colliding with a figure holding a drawn bow and arrow. 

For a tense, terrifying moment she was sure he would shoot her point-blank, but then his entire demeanor changed. His weapon clattered to the ground. 

She stared at his face, lost, and then...

“Teach...?”

The recognition hit her like a physical blow, and she staggered backward. 

“...Claude...?”

But it couldn’t be... He was... That would mean...

The figure in front of her was a well-dressed, broad-shouldered man, fully grown, with a beard. 

He walked towards her slowly, hands up and open as if approaching a wild animal. 

“Teach... You...” His voice wavered, and her heart, if she had one, broke a little. 

She stepped forward and met him as he drew her into a fierce hug. 

“They said you were dead,” He gasped, “They couldn’t find your body, so I knew... I knew you would come back...!”

“Oh, Claude... I’m...!”

He held her out at arm's length again, staring at her up and down in a sort of anguished wonder. “Where have you been?” 

The emotion in the question, almost an accusation, nearly shattered her. “I... I don’t know...”

His brows drew into a frown. “You don’t know?”

“I... I just woke up on a riverbank. During the attack, I fell, and hit my head, I think? I can’t remember...”

“You were... Asleep... For five years? In a river?” 

She shook her head, less of a denial than a movement of frustration. “I... I guess so. That sounds insane, doesn’t it?”

There was a short, tense silence between them. He was still holding her arms in a vice-like grip, as if afraid she might bolt and run at any moment. She looked away, unable to take the open scrutiny in his gaze. 

She felt his grip on her relax. “I believe you, Teach.” He said with a sigh, “And you look... Well, you do look like you just washed up from a river...”

Her relief at his swift acceptance was tempered quickly when she realized what he meant. She looked down at herself for the first time. Her breastplate was dented and rusty, cloak torn to shreds, not to mention the state of her leggings. She was coated in a fine sheen of river mud and blood and must smell like it, too. 

“... But you are still a sight for sore eyes.” He finished warmly.

She looked up into his face again, and could only stare at him for a moment. It was him, it was really him, but...

She reached up and touched his cheek. It was very warm under her cold hand and slightly rough with stubble. He was so wonderfully alive, and somehow more, a beautiful, golden force shining in the moonlight. She meant to say something like that. But instead what came out was: “You’ve... gotten hairier.”

He blinked at her in surprise and then burst into laughter. 

The familiar sound of it mended a broken piece of her. 

“Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment...!” He said, “But, Teach, you—“

A crash and clatter somewhere down the hall interrupted them, and he pushed her behind him in a reflexive motion before quickly collecting his bow and quiver from the ground.

“Could it be... the others?” She asked hopefully. 

The sound of rough, drunken laughter and deep, nasty male voices echoed through the building. 

“I don’t think so,” he said grimly. “I’ve been waiting here for nearly two days and dodging thieves all the while... they’ve been looting the monastery. I hadn’t dared to take them on alone, but...” 

Byleth was surprised at the hot rush of anger that filled her at the thought of brigands digging through the ruins of their old lives, but she grabbed it and held onto that feeling. 

“Let’s take them out.”


	2. Chapter 2

The others did come, if a bit belatedly, and together they sent the thieves packing. It was a familiar rhythm, directing the battle, the sword in her hand feeling like it had never left her grip. Using it felt like stretching an underused muscle, the ache inside of her satisfying instead of hollow. 

I am alive. They are alive...!

After the battle, her former students surrounded her. They were grown and different and so very much the same in ways that made her head swim. 

“Professor!” Leonie demanded with some heat, “Where in the Goddess’ name have you been?!”

Byleth gave her explanations, feeble as they were, but was surprised at how soon they were accepted. 

“It must have been like you were in a state of suspended animation. The goddess must have protected you somehow,” Ignatz hypothesized. 

“Like sort of a protective pocket dimension?” Lysithea cut in eagerly. “Like how Solon tried to trap you that one time, but...” 

“It’s not fair,” Leonie said, now openly weeping, a marked change from her earlier fury. “We thought you were dead! First Jeralt, and then y-you...!”

Byleth embraced her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...! I’m here now...!”

Marianne joined their embrace, tears streaming down her solemn face. “I-I prayed every day that you were alive...! It’s a miracle!”

“I knew you were too clever to die that easily!” Hilda said, but she was sniffling too. 

“Oh, Professor!” Lysithea cried, and suddenly Byleth was engulfed in a huddle of tearful women. 

“N-now ladies, give her some air!” Lorenz said stiffly, though he too was quite obviously getting choked up. “You’re suffocating the poor—“

Rafael interrupted him by pulling him and Ignatz into a crushing hug. “I MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH!” 

The two groups meshed into one huge ball of people, crying and laughing. 

Claude stood alone watching with some amusement before Byleth glanced over at him through the throng of people surrounding her and extricated one arm to reach out a hand towards him. 

He took it, and she drew him into the group.

“Professor,” Hilda said, her voice breaking through the cacophony. “I’m really glad you’re not dead and all, but you smell like an absolute bog!” 

—

It was nearly midnight when she was allowed out of the somehow still functioning sauna and back into the dining hall where the rest of the group was camping for the night. 

Hilda insisted on helping her bathe, quite forcefully, until she was scrubbed pink and sparkling, hair brushed a hundred times, nails meticulously cleaned and buffed until they shone.

The other women were sent to extricate some clean clothes from the girls' dormitories that hadn’t collapsed. Thankfully, they were able to salvage an old uniform that would fit her. Byleth’s long, pale legs felt strange without her leggings, so Hilda loaned her a pair of white knee socks, but even those felt woefully inadequate. It was a much more conservative look than she was used to, and she felt a bit constricted by it all fabric, even with the open skirt. It would do for now, until they found a blacksmith to fix her armor. 

They stepped into the dining hall to the sound of raucous laughter. 

“Look who we found under all that mud!” Hilda called, drawing everyone’s attention. 

Claude, who had been eating, promptly began to choke. 

Rafael pounded him on the back. 

“Why Professor! You look positively radiant!” Lorenz said. 

“I’m surprised how much it suits you!” Lysithea observed. “You could really pass as a student.”

Claude was still coughing. 

“Are you all right?” Byleth asked leaning over the table. 

He leaned back a little, red-faced. “Y-Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Oh, Professor! You must be hungry!” Rafael chimed in. “I saved you a whole chicken! Well, most of it. Well, some of it.”

She smiled and went to join him. “Thank you.”

“You’re wellllcome,” Hilda sang softly over Claude’s shoulder. 

He turned to give her a sour look. “... I knew I never should have told you about that dream.” He muttered.


	3. Chapter 3

A few weeks later, the monastery was well on its way to being restored, the Golden Deer and Knights of Seiros reunited for a common goal under a new banner. It was amazing what they had accomplished so far in so little time with Claude’s leadership. They were able to clear out most of the buildings, including the dormitories, and Byleth had been relieved to find a set of her own clothing relatively unharmed. She was beginning to feel right again, mostly. She still couldn’t seem to fall asleep easily. 

“Up late again?” Claude asked, walking out onto the balcony to join her one night. 

She shook her head. “Can’t sleep.”

He turned to her and smiled, leaning on the railing beside her. “I guess after napping for five years solid you’re done sleeping for a while, yeah?”

She sighed. “I suppose.”

They stared out at the stars together for a long time. He spoke of ambition and dreams, old wounds and action. The earnestness of his expression when he spoke of such things never stopped surprising her. 

—

They had many more moments like that over the next few months, precious quiet nights rare between battles, meetings, endless training and strategy sessions, innumerable cups of tea. 

Small moments of shared peace during war. 

When the end was near, he pulled her aside again, and something about his voice, his unusually gentle manner, made her nervous. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Teach.” He said, turning to her again. It made her feel warm despite the cool night air. 

He kept calling her that, same as before... but now it held something a bit different, a teasing affection that bordered on something more than mere flirtation. 

“I’m glad, too.” She said softly. “But... You know you don’t need to call me that, especially when we are alone. You’re not my student anymore.”

“I have to say, I have mixed feelings about that.”

Her breath caught, but she asked anyway. “What do you mean?” 

“That year you taught us... We were so lucky to have you in our lives, however briefly. You taught me so much about battle, about being a better person. When you left, I... I was really lost without you, for a little while. Everyone was looking to me to fix things, but I...I could barely keep it together. We had to run and split up and--”

She reached up and touched his arm, stopping him. “Claude, you’ve done marvelously. Look at all the people you’ve brought together after all these years. All of the Deer and even the recruits from the other houses, the knights... They all look up to you.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but... They’re here for you, too. Without you, I don’t know if I could’ve... Well, let’s just say I could’ve used a couple more lessons, you know?”

She smiled, a little sadly. “I don’t think I have anything left to teach you.”

“I don’t know about that.” He said softly, “But I think maybe... There’s still plenty we can... Learn from one another.”

He took her face in his hands, one thumb lightly brushing her hair out of her eyes. When had his hands become so large?

“Byleth...”

Her own name sounded so strange coming from him, strange but exciting, like some sort of magic spell. 

“I guess there is one reason I’m glad you’re not my teacher anymore...”

“Oh...?”

“I won’t get expelled for doing this...” He leaned forward, breath on her lips, ticklish and sweet. 

Then she noticed a glint behind him out in the trees. 

A moment later she had shoved him with some force into the shrubbery, a crossbow bolt whizzing through the air where his head had been just moments before. She drew her sword in a smooth fluid motion snapped into place just in time to block another arrow as it came right at her. 

“Holy hells!” Claude yelled, somewhat belatedly. 

Before the attacker could fire again Byleth’s sword whipped out once more in an orange glowing arc, striking the tree and sending the would-be-assassin screaming as he fell, tumbling down to the ground several floors below. There was a sickening crack as he hit the flagstones. 

Hilda came busting out onto the balcony, her axe raised high. “Claude?! I heard— Oh my word!” She stopped cold, staring between them in some confusion. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Claude grunted, struggling to his feet from among the potted plants. “Teach here just saved me from a hole in the head.”

“Wh-what?!”

“Look there,” Byleth said, nodding to the balcony’s edge. “An assassin attacked from the trees.”

“Oh goddess above,” Hilda said, glancing down and then quickly away. “Urgh! Who would do such a thing?” 

“Look at this!” Claude said, holding up the first arrow. There was a roll of parchment tied to the shaft. He pulled it free and read, his expression dour. 

He handed to Byleth, and Hilda read it together over her shoulder.

“Give us the Sword of the Creator or die.”


	4. Chapter 4

The guard was quickly alerted and the monastery went on lockdown. The assailant’s remains were inspected and removed and the staff and former students corralled and questioned in the chapel. To everyone’s relief, no other suspicious persons were found.

Claude disengaged himself from a hushed discussion with a guard to approach her where Byleth stood in quiet conversation with Marianne.

“Professor, if I could have a private word?” He asked. 

So formal. “O-of course.” 

She gave Marianne a friendly nod and departed with him. 

He led her away from the ballroom and up the stairs towards the sleeping quarters. He opened the door for her and Byleth walked into his chambers. He followed and closed the door behind them softly. 

She looked around at his rooms. It had been completely renovated and expanded in the last few months, as they had so many fewer students to accommodate now. There were stacks of books and maps spread out on every surface except for the large four-poster bed and set of overstuffed chairs in front of the fire. There was a rack of archery equipment along one wall, more papers pinned to the wall above it, drawings and sketches, architectural plans, and duty rosters. Shelves lined the back wall filled with more books, scrolls, a tarnished copper teapot, and rows of colorful glass decanters containing who knows what. The lighting fixture that hung from the ceiling was less a chandelier and more an elaborate cluster of antlers. It felt very warm and lived-in already, very Claude. Very different from her own rather sparse and spartan rooms, she reflected.

She turned to face him and was a little surprised by his slightly mischievous expression. She blinked, suddenly realizing how intimate their surroundings were. 

He stepped closer to her, speaking low. “I wanted to personally thank you for saving my life... I am forever in your debt, it seems.”

She shook her head, as if trying to shake the worry and nerves away. “I’m just glad I was there. If you had been with someone else...”

“Byleth...”

It was just her name, but she had to suppress a shiver as she looked up into his now startlingly earnest expression.

“There is no one else,” he said softly. 

She blinked again. “That...that’s not what I...”

“Do you have any suitors? A partner I should be aware of? Someone your heart belongs to?”

She shook her head a little belatedly, thinking briefly of Sothis. “No... Not like what you mean, I think. There wasn’t much of a social life in the river.”

He laughed. “Then I guess that means we are both quite conveniently unattached.”

“What about Hilda?”

He laughed again. “She’s like a sister to me. Besides, she and Rafael are together now.”

“Oh! Oh really? That’s... surprising... but wonderful! I will have to give them my congratulations.”

“Surprising doesn’t quite cover it, but I’m glad they are happy. Her brother is furious of course, but she’ll win him over with time.” He said. 

She regarded him again with consideration. She had seen quite clearly, she knew he was not unpopular. In five years she had been gone, he could have had whatever women he wanted, and probably some of the men. “You really don’t have any of your own... engagements?”

He shrugged a little too casually, looking away. “Haven’t had the time for it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had to fend off a few rank-climbers and matchmaking attempts even with the war going on...”

She frowned a little. “But no one measured up to your standards?”

He looked back at her and winked. “None of them measured up to you.”

She felt herself start to blush. “Claude...” 

“Can you blame me? You made quite an impression on teenage me and I’ve been lost since. No one is as strong, smart, and has such big, beautiful...” he paused and looked her up and down quickly, lingering just a little too long on her bodice before raising his eyes back up to her face, “... green eyes.”

She was definitely blushing now. Had he always been so damnably bold? Goddess, the look of admiration on his sly, handsome face was turning her into jelly. 

“You look... good... as... well.” She said, lamely. 

He laughed softly. “Thank you.”

They shared a short, warm silence.

“Will you stay with me?” He asked into the small space between them.

She blinked. “What, here? Tonight?”

He laughed again, a short breath in the warm room. “Well, I certainly would not object to that, but I meant here in the Alliance in a more, ah, official fashion.”

“Oh,” Byleth said, “Oh, well... I have every intention of doing so.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re here, and not just to fight off my would-be murderers,” he said warmly. “And as for tonight, I know your old room is just down in the courtyard... But... you’re welcome to stay here, with me, if you’d rather... Have company.”

She couldn’t think of much to say, not to such an open invitation, not when he kept looking at her like that. “I’m... considering it.”

His eyes danced, flickering candlelight reflected in their depths. 

“If I try to kiss you again, will you throw me into another potted plant?”

That made her laugh. “Only if you have another assassin hiding in your bedroom.”

He grinned. “We could check behind the tapestries or the—“

She took him by the cravat and pulled him into the kiss with a little more force than necessary. 

His lips were softer than she had imagined, and he tasted like pine needle tea, a little green and bitter with a hint of honey. 

He pulled her close, hands in her hair, all of his usual languidness burned away. Her own sleepy hunger her rose inside her to meet him, arms winding around his neck. Goddess, his shoulders were so broad now...

“Mmm, Teach, you—“

“Shh,” she hushed him with a finger. “Call me Byleth.”

“I wasn’t sure if you liked it. You flinched before...”

“I do like it. Quite a lot.” 

He grinned, looking like a dream. “Byleth. My incredible Byleth...”

She kissed him again, softly at first, sweetly, and she felt him smiling into it. When she opened her mouth in invitation, he took it, kissing her more deeply, wetly. Then he bit her bottom lip very gently in a way that made her whole body tingle. She broke the embrace with a gasp. 

“Oh Byleth...” he sighed, voice very low, rumbling against her chest. “Can I... Can we...” 

She turned and pulled her hair aside to give him access to the lacing at her back. “Help me take this damn thing off.”

He was taken aback only momentarily before springing into action. “Gladly!”

He untied her bodice with a deftness she found a little worrying before she remembered he had probably handled similar strings on his bow every day of his life.

The garment loosened and she let it fall down to her hips and then onto the floor as she stepped out of the rest of her outer clothing. The short chemise she wore underneath was pale cream silk, almost sheer against her skin. When she turned back around to face him again, his look of wide-eyed admiration was gratifying. 

“You’re... so beautiful.”

She smiled, reaching up to his jacket to work on the buckles and buttons there. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

He helped her with renewed haste and soon they were kissing again, his layers of cape and jacket and shirts quickly discarded. He picked her up with surprising ease and carried her through the anteroom and into the bedchamber. 

“How gallant,” she laughed but was soon stifled again by his weight on top of her, bare chest pressing her down into the bedding, lips everywhere. 

He kissed her mouth, her neck, down her chest and between her breasts, the thin silk barely a barrier between his hands as he touched her, deft fingers trailing over and up to her chest. She gasped and shivered as his thumb gently traced over a nipple. He paused and then repeated the action with deliberate slowness, almost experimentally, watching her reaction with some interest. 

She groaned softly, shifting beneath him. “Oh...” 

“Goddess above...” He breathed. 

Soon fingers were replaced with his mouth, hot tongue wet through the fabric. 

“Oh! Th-that—!!”

“Good?”

“Yes..!”

His hands trailed down and up under the fabric, sliding up her torso to cup her breasts. This hands were very warm and slightly rough and felt very, very good. A moment later she was bare, spread out on the bed sheets beneath him and trembling.

“Are you all right? He asked, voice low and breath heavy. “You’re shaking.”

She nodded and gave him a small smile. “Oh, I’m wonderful.”

“You certainly are...,” he breathed. “I want to touch you, but if you need me to stop, at any point, just let me know, okay?”

She nodded again, feeling a little oddly moved. “I will.”

“Well then,” he said, kissing her once again as he trailed his hands down her legs, “Can I touch you here?”

“Yes.”

His fingers tickled the inside of her thighs. “And... here?”

“Y-yes.”

“What about—“

“Claude, please...!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely...”

His fingers moved between her legs and to her center. He gently brushed against her, through the soft curls there, slowly up and down and between. She was wet already, but his sharp intake of breath at the feel of her made every sensation rush frantically downwards.

“Like that?”

“Ah.. yes, like that...”

His touch became a little more confident, and he stroked her more, finger sliding down and then slipped inside of her with very little resistance. 

“Ah...! Mmm...” 

He watched her reaction with his sharp, light eyes, face flushed but with an expression of such concentration that it made squirm, nervous laughter threatening to burst forth at any moment. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, biting a knuckle. 

He continued stroking her, building in pressure and speed, until her legs were shaking but no longer from nerves. 

Suddenly, he paused and took his hand away. She was about to protest when he shifted position, moving down her body and between her legs. He lowered his head and kissed her low on her belly. He looked up at her inquiringly, one eyebrow cocked with a wordless question.

Breathless, she could only nod. 

He kissed her again, lower, lower, and then she felt his tongue on her, in her.

“Oh...!”

It was a strange sensation at first, wetter than his hands has been, and softer. The first touches were teasingly gentle until he found her most sensitive spot again. He gave her a long, deliberate lick. 

She gasped. “Oh...! Th-there...!” 

Emboldened, his rhythm quickened and her pleasure became a steady pulse as he moved with purpose, harder and faster, lapping at her eagerly. 

She felt it in her toes first, a rush of pleasure cascading throughout her entire body so sudden and strong her knees buckled and her back arched. 

The volume of her cry startled them both, and probably most of the people sharing the same wing of the building. 

A few blissful moments later she woke herself out of a daze to find him laying beside her and looking down at her with his head propped up on one elbow. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, but his exceptionally smug expression made it plain that he already knew. 

In answer, she rolled over on top of him. 

“Oh ho, I like this view.” 

She could feel the urgent swell of him under her, through his breeches. “I can tell. Here, let me...”

She stood up briefly and divested him of his pants in a single smooth motion and threw them halfway across the room.

He laughed in amazement at her haste, but the sound soon became a strangled gasp of pleasure as she mounted him again.

“Oh f-fuck...!”

She had never heard him curse like that before, and it was oddly satisfying. The expression on his face as she slid down onto him was so without composure, almost pained, it made her shiver to have caused it. 

“I haven’t hurt you, have I?” She asked softly. 

“N-no... quite the opposite in fact,” he said, voice ragged. 

He was substantial, stretching her open and filling her up until her eyes watered. Her entire body was so sensitive now, still twitching with the remembered pleasure of her climax. It made her dizzy and breathless with wordless need. The only thing she wanted in that moment was him inside her. She eased herself down onto him until they were belly to belly. 

“Ah... haaaa... Goddess above and hellfires below...!” He gasped. “Th-that feels so good... but... You’re not... in any pain?”

She shifted experimentally, earning another grunt. She shook her head. 

“Good... that’s ... really good.”

She sat back again, settling her full weight on top of him. Looking down at him from this angle was entirely new, and she liked it. His long, toned torso, golden brown and slick with sweat, lay beneath her like a map, the muscles of his arms and shoulders coiled tightly as if he was holding onto her for dear life. 

He squeezed her sides and pushed up, lifting her with the combined strength of his hips and arms in a shallow thrust. She let out a soft moan of approval. He did it again, and she felt him shift and plunge inside her, deeper and harder. She saw stars. 

“Oh...! Do that again...!”

He complied with gusto, and soon she was riding him in earnest, back arched and head thrown back, breasts heaving with every eager thrust. 

“Oh! Oh, yes..!”

The sensation built inside her again, a hungry ache at her very core, fed with every rocking motion, every gasping breath. The wave built and built and then came crashing down, her toes clenched and hips bucking as another scream of pleasure spilled out of her once again. He groaned in answer, finishing with an almost animal growl that sent a final spike of pleasure rippling through her before she collapsed, shaking and spent, on top of him. 

For a moment, she had to concentrate on breathing, on remembering how to breathe and then remembering other things, like how her limbs worked and what her own name was. 

“Byleth...”

She looked up. The motion of his heavy breathing made her rise and fall slightly, his thundering heartbeat a strident staccato against her breast. He was red to his ears and looking at her like he couldn’t quite believe she was real. 

He coughed and said, “I didn’t think I’d really have to survive two murder attempts tonight.”

How she had any energy left to laugh was a wonder.


	5. Chapter 5

Byleth watched Claude nod off first, feeling fuzzy and content as they lay side by side, face to face, hands and legs intertwined between them. Slack with sleep, his features smoothed out, his normally expressive eyebrows relaxed into a flat line that would have made him look sullen and boyish if it wasn’t for the scruff of beard along his jaw. 

She felt very happy, very tired, slightly sore, but mostly very, very happy. 

She sighed and fell into a deep, contented sleep.

When she awoke it was the early hours of the morning, the sun not even a pale shadow through the high windows above his bed. The candles had long burned low, leaving only a dim flickering light in the large room. 

She had felt rather than seen him get up, the bed shifting almost imperceptibly beneath her as he carefully rolled and silently stood up to dress. She didn’t sit up, but she opened one eye just a fraction to watch him. 

She watched him, quite purposefully, walk over to where her things had fallen in an untidy heap, reach down, and pull the coiled shape of the Sword of the Creator out of her satchel.

“What are you doing?” She asked, voice hollow. 

He froze.

She sat up and asked again. “What are you doing with my sword?”

He didn’t answer, but turned and looked at her with an almost apologetic expression, the weapon glowing dimly in his grip. 

“Put that down. Now.” The order in her voice filled the room, but he just stood there, motionless. 

“Byleth, I was just —“

She stood up and crossed the room in three angry strides to snatch it from him. “You can’t use that, not without the right Crest..! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I was going to take it,” he said finally, “I was going to get rid of it.”

“Are you mad? Are you...” A cold feeling of horror sank through her. “Did you... Did you do all of this just to get to the sword?”

He stood up a little straighter and had the nerve to look indignant. “What? No! No, Byleth, of course, I didn’t—-!“

The slap was hard, delivered with all the force of an angry Goddess behind it. Byleth could not remember a moment she has been so angry, if she has ever been angry at all. 

“Y-you, you dirty, lying scoundrel—!”

“Byleth, I didn’t, I would never—“

“Get out!”

“Byleth, I love you, I wouldn’t—“

“I said. Get. OUT.”

“...But this is my room.”

Her eyes flashed a fiery green and he was suddenly scrambling backward out of the chamber, arms full of his rumpled clothes, hastily scooped off the floor as she advanced. 

The door slammed shut behind him with a resounding bang. 

He stood in the hallway, half-dressed and stunned for a moment before daring to knock.

“Byleth, please let me back in. Please, I promise I’ll explain and—“

He stepped back in surprise and relief as the door swung open, only to have his own boots delivered quite forcefully into his face.


	6. Chapter 6

Some short hours later he was patted awake from where he sat dozing in the guard’s quarters. 

“Sir?”

“Hmm?” 

“You asked me to let you know when Professor Eisner came downstairs,” the gatekeeper informed him. “She’s in the garden now, but—” 

Claude was already up and dashing out of the room. 

When he finally made his way downstairs and out to the garden, he found himself confronted with a row of women wearing decidedly stony expressions, Byleth center among them. Tea trays and stacks of biscuits were laid out artfully on the tables, but they were mostly untouched.

“Good morning ladies,” he said, faux cheerfulness perhaps a bit too brittle. “I trust you all rested well?”

There was a pregnant pause before Lysithea responded rather coldly, “Good morning Duke Riegan. Would you care to join us?” 

He hesitated. Had Byleth already told them about last night?

He looked around the garden at them, the same vaguely-threatening aura emanating from every well-dressed female guest. There were also, quite conspicuously, no seats left vacant. 

Byleth had definitely told them something. 

She sipped her tea calmly, avoiding his gaze. 

He stepped back and bowed a little. “Ah, I thank you, but I believe I am expected elsewhere. Perhaps I will see you all at the tournament later today?”

“Perhaps,” Byleth said softly, and he allowed himself a faint moment of hope before retreating. The sound of feminine laughter followed him up the path. 

—

It was a cold, clear day and the ground of the training arena was hard-packed under the weight of many armored boots and heavy hooves. 

Claude glanced up from the archery gallery and into the stands, looking for her. 

Byleth stood at the railing in a clump of chattering people. Hilda was talking to her quite animatedly, flashing her engagement ring with a jaunty triumph. Byleth embraced her warmly in congratulations. 

She looked up, noticing him watching. She stiffened. Hilda turned and saw him as well, her exuberant manner evaporating instantly. 

He waved weakly. 

Hilda stuck out her tongue at him. 

He sighed and grumbled under his breath. “We’re not still school children, you know...”

“Hey Riegan!” 

He turned to find Sylvain and Felix approaching. He braced himself appropriately.

Sylvain gave him a sly, knowing look and punched him good-naturedly on the shoulder. “Heard you and the professor are at odds. Finally made a pass at her, eh?”

Claude sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Go away, Sylvain.” 

“Oh wow, did she give you that shiner? Ha ha, oh you dog!”

Claude gave him a flat look of disgust and then turned to stare purposely at Felix. “Can you deal with him, please? I’m not in the mood.”

Felix smiled darkly and grabbed Sylvain by the back of his collar. “Gladly.” 

“Aww c’mon!” Sylvain groaned as he was bodily dragged away. “I was just playing around!”

“You’re always playing around, Gautier. That’s the problem. Come on, let’s have a bout.”

Sylvain visibly perked up. “Oh! Well, the ladies are watching!”

They strode away and Claude looked back into the stands, where the ladies were indeed still watching. 

Enough of this nonsense. 

He had to clear up this ridiculous misunderstanding, and now. He steeled himself and walked towards them. “Professor! Might I have a word?”

Hilda jumped forward as if to protest, but Byleth took her shoulder and held her back. They conferred briefly in soft voices he couldn’t hear. Byleth nodded and they broke apart as she walked to the aisle and down the stairs towards him. 

When she reached the bottom she regarded him with a cool, even gaze and arms folded. “Yes, my lord?”

He winced at the formal address. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

She frowned, hesitated, but then nodded and turned on her heel and strode away back towards the estate. He quickly followed. 

She led him through the entrance hall and ballroom and back to the balcony where they had the close encounter with the assassin the night before. An odd choice for a reconciliation, he reflected, but at least it was far away from the festivities. 

The trees that had framed the space before had been cut down that morning and it now seemed a little too open to the blue-gray sky, too exposed. 

She leaned against the banister and stared at him expectantly. “Well?

He cleared his throat. “I... I just wanted to apologize. Sincerely, I did not mean to use you so ill. It was never my intention to break your trust in such a fashion. I... am sorry, Byleth. Truly.”

She continued to stare at him, expression unreadable. 

“And I... My intent was only to remove what I saw was a threat. The sword, I mean. That letter... It scared me, Byleth. You could have been killed. Not defeated on the battlefield, but murdered right there in front of me. I know I should have asked—“

“You should have never touched it without my permission.” She said suddenly, voice tight. “You are very good at asking for permission for all sorts of things when it gets you what you want, it seems, but not when it came to my sword. You knew I wouldn’t allow it, but you did it anyway. You were too busy scheming to get me into bed to think of how that would make me feel.”

He winced. “That... I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have discussed it with you. It was a stupid plan, I wasn’t thinking right. It was incredibly inconsiderate, and I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

She was still frowning at him, eyes cold as ice. 

He continued, undeterred. “But please know that last night, it wasn’t just some scheme. Everything I told you, everything we shared, was the truth. Being with you meant the world to me.” He took a breath and exhaled again, looking into her eyes. “I love you. I’ve loved you for six long, lonely years. Please forgive me.”

Her glacial expression seemed to thaw slightly, her shoulders relaxing. “People who love each other should be able to trust each other, you know.”

“I know. I hope you will give me a chance to earn that trust back...?”

She looked away, out over the garden and tournament field some distance away. “I want to, but I’m not sure if I should.” 

“What can I do to change your mind? Anything, name anything at all and I’ll do it for you.”

She turned back to him and gave him a long considering look up and down. For a long beat, she was silent. When she finally spoke, it was an order. 

“Take off your clothes.”

He blinked. 

“Um, pardon?”

“You heard me.”

They stared at each other for another long moment, then she asked, “Well?”

He let out a laugh and started undressing. 

She watched with some interest, still and silent as he went about it with some showmanship. He paused at his belt. 

“All of it?” He asked. 

“All of it.” She confirmed. 

He cleared his throat but complied. Soon he was fully bare before her. 

“You have me at your mercy, my friend.”

She stood up and circled him, nodding approvingly.

He laughed again, a little nervously. It was quite cold. “Well? Do you forgive me yet?”

“Get down on your knees.”

The command took him completely off guard yet again, but he complied without protest. Despite the cold, he was a little excited by it all. The authority in her voice was strangely stirring. 

“And?” He asked a little hopefully. 

“Close your eyes.”

He did. 

She was silent again, for a little too long, before he heard movement and the rustle of fabric. 

Was she undressing, too?

The cold had brought goosebumps to his arms, but he suppressed a shiver and tried to hold very still in anticipation. Would she touch him? Would she order him to do something else? There are several things he felt very willing to do at the moment. 

He heard another set of sounds in quick succession, and it took a moment too late for him to identify: the balcony door opening, swinging shut again, and the lock rolling into place with a click.

He opened his eyes and shot to his feet. She was gone, and so were his clothes. 

He let out a wordless exclamation. 

“You’re not the only one who can scheme, Claude von Riegan!” Byleth called from the other side of the door and then marched away.

He could only gape at the locked doorway in response. Several emotions cascaded through him in waves. 

Then he started to laugh.


	7. Chapter 7

About a half-hour later Cyril was rushing to the tournament arena past the estate from the stables, letter in hand. He skidded to a stop when he came upon a strange sight in the middle of the path. 

He bent down and picked up a single pair of trousers. He squinted at them in confusion. Then he noticed a familiar matching jacket and cape draped messily draped over a bush. 

“What the hell?” He mumbled, looking around. “Claude?”

Above him he heard a shout. “Oh, Cyril! Thank the Goddess, I’m freezing!”

Cyril looked up to see his lord and duke leaning over the balcony railing, bare-chested, and presumably bare-everything else.

“Be a good man and bring those up here, will you?” 

Cyril considered asking multiple questions but instead came to the swift conclusion that he really didn’t want to know.


	8. Chapter 8

When Claude found her again, Byleth was standing in the private box overlooking the jousting ring, looking very cozy draped in a fur cloak. 

She smiled at him with some warmth. “Oh, Duke Riegan, I was wondering when you would join me again. They've started the tourney without you.”

“I can see that.” He said flatly. 

“You look a bit chilled. Would you care for a cloak and some mulled wine?” She asked.

He found her wide-eyed look of false innocence much too endearing. 

He cracked a smile. “That sounds positively necessary, Professor.”

He shrugged into the offered furs gratefully and she handed him a steaming cup from the tray beside her. He held it in both hands, letting the heat soak through his gloves and into his still cold-numb fingers. 

“So,” she asked, voice low. “Have you learned your lesson?” 

He nodded. “Quite thoroughly.”

“Good,” she said simply. “Let’s call it even then, shall we?” 

“Even,” he agreed. 

He raised his mug in her direction. She returned the gesture, and they clinked their cups together resolutely. 

They drank, looking at each other over the edge of their cups. The wine was not hot enough to burn, but warm enough to fill him with an expanding heat and a great deal of satisfaction. He sighed in gratitude.

“Pardon me, my lord? Professor Eisner?”

Claude jumped slightly and turned around. 

Shamir was at his other side, her dark, flat expression unreadable except for one slightly cocked eyebrow. “I have a report regarding the assassination attempt last night.”

Claude brightened. “Well, don’t keep us in suspense.”

She dipped her head in a rather cursory bow. “As the professor suggested, we searched the forest along the eastern border early this morning and came upon a group of bandits. It appears they were supplied with equipment and funds from the Empire, including these.”

She pulled an unloaded crossbow from behind her back, the same make as the one they had found on the assassin the night before.

Claude frowned and nodded. “I can’t say I’m surprised, except... Professor? You are ordering about the Knights of Seiros, now?”

Byleth shook her head. “It was just a suggestion.”

“And a good one, my lord.” Shamir interrupted, unmoved by his skeptical look. “Catherine and I took it upon ourselves to thoroughly rout the fiends and send them packing. They won’t try that tactic again.”

“Thank you, Shamir. I’m sure we will all sleep better tonight because of it.”

She bowed again, barely, and walked away without being dismissed. 

Most nobles would have been annoyed with her lack of manners, but Claude found he appreciated a little insolence now and again. 

Speaking of... 

He looked over at Byleth. She returned his questioning look with a serene smile.

“Never a dull moment with you, is there?”

“I like to keep you on your toes.”

He laughed. “I appreciate it.”

The clash of lances echoed across the field before them.

They turned to watch the match in companionable silence for a moment, breaking into applause and cheers when Leonie, predictably, won her match rather superbly. 

A servant came by and refilled their mugs and they drank some more. The hot wine made him feel human again, and a little bold. 

“I do have one more question for you, dear Professor,” Claude said, staring out over the tournament grounds. 

She followed his gaze. “What’s that?”

“Will you marry me?” 

She blinked and turned back to stare at him in amazement. 

“Oh,” She said softly, “I think I will.”


End file.
